Archive for May, 2005

As you cheap bastards aren’t buying anything from the clickable ads on
this site, I have to do actual work this month. Asbestos doesn’t abate itself, I’ll have you know. So the updates are going to be fewer and farther between for a couple of weeks.

I’ll be working in Lebanon, Tennessee. Home of God’s favorite mayor.
If anyone knows how the residents of Lebanon refer to themselves, I
would be interested in finding out. Do they say Lebanese, or is
that too Muslimly sounding? Lebanonions, Lebanonians,
Lebonites? Which is it? And where are the cute girls.
Most of the women I see in that town look like they either have
rickets, leprosy, or a thyroid condition. Or all of the above.

Eddie Albert was older than Arizona.
No seriously, look it up. He was also a hero in World War II,
winning the Bronze Star rescuing Marines at Tarawa.
Unfortunately, he wound up married to a ditzy Hungarian woman and moved out to the country only to be tormented by Mr. Haney. Or, so I saw on TV Land.

“It could probably be shown by facts and figures that there is no
distinctly native American criminal class except Congress.” Samuel Langhorne Clemens

Truer words never spoken than those above. Although Ol’
Sam was talking about the U.S. Congress. Tip O’Neill said that all
politics is local, so it has a universal application.

On an
especially beautiful Nashville late spring day, the air has been thick
with the talk about the big bust down at the Capitol. This story has takes exactly nobody by surprise. John Ford has
been hounded about his ethical lapses everyday on the television.
So you have to wonder just how dumb someone has to be to be taking
bribes when they are already under the microscope for being the reigning king of
statehouse corruption.

The local blogosphere (shudder) has been on top of this story
before the local media got hip to what was happening. And the
national media would rather spotlight Soggy Weather in New England than
report on lawmakers being led away in chains.

Some of the local outrage and celebration has been concerning the
proposed ethics legislation that has been swept under the rug.
Graft guzzling politicos care as much about ethics restraints when
taking bribes like an armed bank robber cares about violating the Brady Bill.

Like H.L. Mencken said, “Every decent man is ashamed of the government he lives under.”

Take this
personality test to see where you wind up. As always, this is for
entertainment purposes only. No wagering. The
questions are a little too general, as is a common problem with these
dopey internet quizzes. A party who will remain nameless (Tony)
complained that many of the questions he could answer “All of the
Above” when that wasn’t an offered choice. Of course his
personality type was scored “Smartass”, when everyone knows he is
really a “Dumbass”. Your results may vary.

I’m not going to use this forum for bashing Star Wars fans.
Hell, when the first one came out in ’77, I saw it nine times that
summer. I’ve gone to see all of them on opening day, or at least
a day or two after. I like the movies. But they are just
movies, not something to base one’s existence on. So like I said,
I’m not going to go after the pathetic losers who queue up a couple of
weeks in advance wearing their Jar Jar Binks outfits. I’m not
going to laugh and point at all of the tubby Jedis that took time off
from their used record store jobs. There is no point in being
ugly about some pasty skinned computer programmer who has filled his
Mom’s basement with action figures and collectibles all the while never
knowing the touch of a member of the opposite sex. It has been done
before and I refuse to pile on. Nothing is as reprehensible as
picking on someone who doesn’t have the ability to fight back.
Even if they do have a toy light saber.

So instead, I’m going to pick on the Star Trek fans. Sure, in the Venn diagram
of geeks, there is plenty of overlap. But this time I’m going
after one geek in particular. You know who you are, pal.

A couple of years ago a group of couples went out for a nice couples
kind of night out. Nothing fancy. Just a “Hey, you all want
to get a drink(s) and a movie?” kind of thing. As fate would have
it, one of the Star Trek pictures was having its opening night at the
Green Hills Megaplex. Don’t ask me which one. I don’t
remember and it isn’t important. So our little group goes in and
whaddyaknow, there is a guy all decked out in his Captain Picard
jumper. Can’t say I’m surprised at that point. Hold
everything. He has a date. A nice looking girl. A
nice looking BLIND girl. Yeah, that’s right. Captain
Pajamas decides to spice up his evening by dressing up as a fictional
character. Hey, that is fine and dandy. You are hurting no one
but yourself. But the poor chick he takes with him doesn’t have
a fucking clue that she is the arm candy of the biggest doofus in the
joint.

As a whole, society doesn’t look kindly upon people who take advantage of the disabled. When Islamic terrorists talk the Down’s Syndrome kid into
strapping on some C-4 and taking a walk into a crowded marketplace, we
tend to think that particular Islamic terrorist is a little shittier
than most Islamic terrorists. So listen up Star Trek fan.
So now you have taken advantage of a blind girl. There is a
little special circle of hell for dopes like you. That particular
circle is full of rabid loser sports fans and angry little league dads.

Monday at the gym I apparently herniated, smashed, popped, crushed,
whatever a disc in my lower back. I went yesterday to the local
Quack-in-the-Box for a fist full of prescriptions. So now
I’m a cripple. I get all the good parking spaces. I get to
tool around Kroger in the George Costanza scooter. I get to lay
on my ass all day and have people wait on me hand and foot. I get
to walk around with a goofy Lord of the Rings looking walking
stick. The only way I could be luckier is if I had no back injury
whatsoever.

You know that Johnny Werzner kid-the kid who delivers papers in the neighborhood? He’s a fine kid. Some of the neighbors say he smokes crack, but I don’t believe it. Anyway, for his 10th birthday, all he wanted was a burrow owl. Kept bugging his old man, "Dad, get me a burrow owl. I’ll never ask for anything else as long as I live." So the guy breaks down and buys him a burrow owl. Anyway at 10:30 the other night I go out into my yard and there’s the Werzner kid looking up in the tree. I said, "What are you looking for?" He said, "I’m looking for my burrow owl." I say, "Jumping Jesus on a pogo stick! Everybody knows that a burrow owl lives in a hole in the ground! Why the hell do you think they call it a burrow owl, anyway?!" Now Stuart, do you think a kid like that is gonna know what the queers are doing to the soil?

Stuart feeding the owls one last time before shoveling them into the fireplace.

It may not have been entirely fair to bash Onterrio Smith
for being a dumb hop-head. He just wanted to beat the
mandatory piss test with a fake penis and dehydrated urine. At
least give him credit for trying to beat the system.
But Nate Newton
on the other hand has to be dumber. A lot dumber. This guy
made bank as a six time Pro Bowler. So what does he decide to do
after retiring from the NFL? Smuggle hundreds of pounds of weed,
of course. Why? Because you can’t make it on a professional
football player’s salary anymore, I guess.
The punchline to this joke is that Nate lives not far from my little brother. Which explains a lot.